


Half-Blood Halloween

by EllyAvon



Category: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Gen, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2498081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllyAvon/pseuds/EllyAvon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the evening of the first combined-camp competition, Halloween, Camp Half-Blood has some very unusual intruders. Can Annabeth and Reyna find them all before someone-- or everyone-- gets hurt?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Problem and a Plan

Half-Blood Hill had an interesting glow to it this evening. The sky often reflected the strange and varied lights of the camp. From the end-of-day embers from the Hephaestus cabin’s forges, to the long-burning lamp of a late-pondering Athena camper. On rare evenings, a sharp observer could see the pinkish glow of Aphrodite blessing one of her favored children with literal beauty sleep. Tonight, though, on Halloween, the Hecate campers had magicked something fantastic into the sky. Streaks of green, purple and orange, shaping and twisting into pumpkins, skeletons and monsters, real and unreal.

To the other campers, the monstrous images represented adventure, the possibility of glory and honor. To Annabeth, well, it was a little bit like going through a bizarre sky-scrapbook. Most campers got one quest in their lifetime. Annabeth had stopped counting the number of monsters, ghosts, gods and goddesses she’d encountered. It wasn’t how she would choose to decorate.

The campers surrounded the bonfire, dressed as only half-bloods on halloween could be; in an incredible combination of chitons, togas, corsets, masks, animal ears, helmets, sandals, boots, fishnet tights, body armor and of course, all varieties of weapons. A particularly excited member of the 4th cohort appeared to be wearing all of the above. 

A chill crept up Annabeth’s bare arms, even as the campfire burned ever-brighter, ever-taller as the evening’s main event drew closer. 

She frowned as she attempted to adjust her mask. She took some solace in the fact that she had been “allowed” by the children of Aphrodite to wear a simple, snow-white peplos with gleaming golden clasps and a gold cord at her waist. The only thing she hadn’t realized when she had tried the outfit on over her camp clothes was that, of course, almost her entire left side was exposed. She wasn’t sure if she was glad Percy wouldn’t be here to see it-- or if she really wanted to see his reaction. 

But, it was just as well. He may not even recognize her if he was here, with these bizarre wings sprouting from her shoulder blades, the circlet floating over her head, the revealing outfit and the glitter. Even her hair was taken down from its home in her ponytail and fluffed to “ohmigodsperfection!” 

Annabeth assumed the exclamation was all one word. 

She had argued that the image of angels as snowy-white winged humanoids was utterly wrong according to ancient writings. Nephilim had hundreds of eyes, Seraphim had sets upon sets of wings... it was no use to tell this to Aphrodite’s children, who merely insisted that her hair was perfect for it and done was done. They’d even gotten Bernadette, the daughter of Hecate who’d magicked her halo into being, to bless the enormous white pair of wings the Aphrodite campers had strapped onto her shoulders. 

Annabeth had to keep herself from sputtering when she felt them mould to her back and respond to her movements. _Mom must like you,_ Bernadette mused, _I wasn’t sure it’d work! But she’s also in charge of angels, so maybe she thinks you’d make a good one!_ The daughter of Hecate made a face as she looked her up and down, _Probably you still can’t fly._ She disappeared with an annoying POOF.

She whispered a silent prayer of thanks to her mother for the her own wise suggestion of making this a masked Halloween celebration. Though she was fairly sure everybody knew who she was, at least she could pretend to be anonymous. Tonight was the first time it wasn’t easy to separate Greeks from Romans... many SPQR tattoos had been covered up and there wasn’t an orange or purple t-shirt in sight.

A horn sounded-- meant to gather the competitors and spectators. She had encouraged the contest-- the campers badly needed something to lift their spirits after their camp had nearly been overrun by their (now) Roman friends and the evil Earth Goddess. The competitors, campers not dressed in Halloween finery excepting their masks, lined up with their weapons and armor. Cages lined the outside of the amphitheatre, which snapped and growled and moaned.

Annabeth was just searching out a spot to sit in the ampitheatre when something startled her. Hazel appeared at her elbow, looking a bit out of breath. Annabeth searched her golden eyes and found them bright with fear. A glance behind the daughter of Pluto revealed a bright track of rubies and emeralds where she had stepped. Something was wrong.

“What...” Annabeth began.

Hazel shook her head to indicate no time, and began to lead her away murmuring, “We have a problem.” 

We certainly did. Hazel’s first problem was that she had apparently tried to wear every costume Lady Gaga had ever dreamed up all at the same time.

\---

Women in ancient Greece, in general, did not fight. It was understandable, then, that her peplos was not the ideal outfit for the race to the big house. Her magical wings, at least, had folded carefully behind her. The fact that Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano, Thalia and a conglomerate of the head counselors and centurions who were not preparing to participate in the contest awaited her on the porch was not comforting. 

“Where’s the Pontifex?” a Centurion Annabeth wasn’t as familiar with asked from behind a horribly ugly horse mask. 

“Nico’s getting him,” Will Solace supplied as he took the steps in a single bound, then stood on the porch, slowly oscillating up and down.

“Uh, Will?” Piper asked, removing the mirrored-sunglasses that were the elegant centerpiece of her Police costume. Annabeth was more than certain Piper had chosen this costume to not be sexy, but either her mom had intervened or no one had advised her that she had curves _like whoa_ that were highlighted by the well-tailored uniform.

“Yup?” He responded.

“Mind telling us what those are? And what you’re supposed to be?” She indicated his shoes, which looked like snowshoes had a baby with a trampoline.

“Moon boots!” He cheered, and gave a particularly gleeful little bounce.

Annabeth’s curiosity got the better of her, “And they make you a...?”

“Spectacular pain, mostly,” responded Nico Di Angelo, appearing from Will’s shadow, lisping slightly around what appeared to be magically-installed vampire fangs.

Will nodded sagely, “yes, probably, but I’m a 90s kid!”

It took Annabeth’s brain exactly 1.2 seconds to spit out the number “You were born in 1998, Will, you’re hardly a 90s kid. Plus, you’re just wearing those ridiculous shoes.” He was, indeed, still in cargo shorts and his orange t-shirt.

“Ah, yes. But I wish I was! I am just for Halloween! Plus I love these things! Auntie Artemis gave them to me!”

Thalia looked like she might laugh or throw up at the thought of the hunting Goddess being described as “Auntie” but fought through to say “Who put a quarter in you, Solace?” 

“Lady Dian--Artemis hates boys...” Hazel began, the lobsters on her head wiggling.

“Not the gay ones!” Will’s chirp was followed by a loud silence. Annabeth was pretty sure most of the others had never had someone come out to them before. And definitely not a nearly-glowing, 6-foot-tall, child of Apollo in moon boots.

“What gay ones?” Jason asked as he approached, “I didn’t think that was a problem?” He looked as costumed as anyone else in his full Pontifex regalia. His voice was calm but there was a slight charge in the air-- a silent reminder of exactly who anyone with a problem would have to go through.

A very unnecessary, misplaced reminder, Annabeth thought, but sweet.

“Thank you, Pontifex,” Reyna said loudly, seizing control of the awkward situation. “The only problem we’re having this evening is that we have an intruder.”

Reyna made her way to the grass in front of the porch, looking weirdly and perfectly at home in red heels, long white gloves, and a tiny sailor suit with a red skirt and giant purple bow that matched her ever-present purple cape. Was she wearing a gold circlet? 

The Praetor tossed her long, dark hair behind her, like Annabeth, she was not accustomed to having hair in her face. “Yes, possibly intruders,” she said gravely, “mortals.”

The bunch burst into surprised chatter.

Annabeth locked eyes with Reyna, long enough for them to exchange a fast and efficient non-verbal. Reyna tilted her head to the ground next to her, _c’mon up._ Annabeth arched an eyebrow, _bad things happen when we team up, Praetor._ An eyeroll and a wry smile from Reyna said, _true enough, but we’re the best chance anybody’s got to get this lot organized._ Annabeth went to stand with Reyna, _point taken._

“Wait,” Dakota said, “How do we know there is... are... mortals here? I thought you guys had wards?”

“We do.” Piper insisted, “and we know because someone in a scream costume walked right through Drew’s sword.”

“Drew had a sword?” Nico snickered. 

The idea of the Kardashian-esque Drew Tanaka toting a real weapon was a little funny, Annabeth had to admit.

“Unsheathed celestial bronze, no less,” Piper said with disgust. “I got her a fake one before I came here.”

The question hung in the air.

“Yes,” Piper gritted her teeth, “She dressed up as a Fancy Gladiator.” 

“I wanna know what a fancy gladiator looks like,” Horse-mask said.

“I want to know how she knew what a gladiator looks like.” Dakota said with a bit of a slur.

“Romans.” Reyna said sharply, then quickly corrected herself, “Demi-Gods, I’m sure we agree that these mortals must be removed from the grounds.”

“The contest could get dangerous, if someone fails to pass a trial.” They had been capturing monsters for the competition for the last several weeks-- though celestial bronze and imperial gold couldn’t harm a mortal-- a dracena or a karpoi certainly could. 

“I can stall the ceremony.” Jason offered. “They won’t start without my blessing.” He was right, though he’d only been Pontifex for a short amount of time, he had stepped into the role so naturally it seemed as though they had always had one.

Annabeth nodded thoughtfully, “Stolls? Perhaps a distraction? And I know you have a sibling or two who can work magic with locks-- do you think they could work a little backward lockpicking? Jam them up?”

Travis and Connor exchanged gleeful looks, “Oh, we have siblings alright. There are 10 monster cages and 20 siblings, not including myself and my esteemed brother, who could do the job.”

Annabeth’s heart gave a nasty twinge. The Stolls and the other children of Hermes were excellent lock-pickers, but none of them could lay a hand on a padlock and have it fall open, as Luke could.

“Just pick a few,” Reyna’s voice took her from her reverie. “I’ve watched the children of the messenger God undo each other’s work for years now.” 

“So, the question is, how do we find the mortals without the Drew Tanaka method?”

“Start handing out shots of nectar,” Nico grumbled darkly, “and see who... what, Will, you know I was joking!” the son of Hades responded to the poisonous look from his... boyfriend? Annabeth would have to ask Piper later.

“Just because I can cure nectar poisoning doesn’t mean I should have to!” Will whined.

“Last resort,” Annabeth said hastily. Her mind whirled around several plans until she landed on something useful. “Pairs,” she decided out loud. “We go in pairs of one Greek to one Roman. Between us, Centurions and head counselors, we should know every Demi-God here, right?”

There was silence, and nodding. Annabeth was briefly glad that Clarisse was in charge of the competition. She always did her the “favor” of being the devil’s advocate for her ideas. Tonight, it seemed prudent to just carry out the plan.

“Are we agreed, then, Demi-Gods?” Reyna asked. In a flurry of agreement and somewhat forced pairing, the teams formed up and ventured out into the night. 

Reyna and Annabeth, left alone on the grass, watched their comrades disperse. After exchanging another wordless conversation, they, too, struck off into the darkness.

They did not see or sense the young man who jumped soundlessly down from a large tree, and began to follow them.


	2. Legacies

Annabeth wasn’t completely certain why she was up in a tree, only that it was where Reyna had barked at her to go, and she’d obeyed without question, seeing the change and the fear in Reyna’s face. 

Reyna stood in the clearing for a good minute or so, staring into the darkness. Annabeth was starting to wonder if her friend had gone a little bit mad or if Dionysus had given her some kind of curse, until a young man stepped into the eerie, glowing light. 

She wasn’t sure how Reyna had known he was coming, but Annabeth immediately saw the plan. If Reyna had to subdue him, Annabeth was free to make an escape to find the others.

“Good evening,” he said in a musical tenor voice. Annabeth did not trust musical tenor voices.

“You’re a mortal,” Reyna seethed. 

“I’m a legacy. A Greek legacy, to be exact.” He corrected with an affected finger-wag. He was dressed as a pirate-- not a cheap pirate either, his leather boots and pants looked well-tailored and he looked fully at peace with the tri-cornered hat on his head. She remembered Percy’s evil golden half-brother and wondered if this kid was dressed up or if he really was a pirate. 

“A Greek legacy?” Annabeth could hear Reyna keeping the incredulity out of her voice. It was exceedingly rare for Greek demigods to reach the age of majority-- and to meet one another, fall in love and live long enough to raise children? It was, quite literally, unheard of.

“Ask my Demi-God parents, if you get the chance,” he said with a smirk, his russet hair glinting in the moonlight from under his hat. “Nothing is fair in love or war, my royal friend, Praetor Reyna.”

Though she couldn’t see it from her vantage point, Annabeth could imagine the angry flash in Reyna’s eyes. How did he know Reyna’s name?

“The praetura is not a monarchy. All praetors are duly elected by the senate.” Her voice was cold. She enunciated the next words very particularly, “myself included.”

He smiled at Reyna, his teeth a flash of white. His thick eyebrows should have been off-putting, but were somehow expressively handsome. Though Annabeth could never stray from Percy’s side, she had to admit he was dangerously beautiful. “Of course, of course; it is your majestic bearing that makes me call you royalty... or is it your lovely name, _la mia Regina_?”

He took a few lazy steps closer to the Praetor. Annabeth tensed and marveled at the sensation in her wings, the Hecate camper had done some real work with these things. She was ready to intervene, if necessary. Or perhaps, even to fly off. Not an ideal time to test the flight theory, but she’d do what she had to.

Of course, though, Reyna had it under control. Reyna raised a white-gloved hand and took the pirate by the chin.

“And what are you called, legacy?” She murmured so softly that Annabeth could barely make out her words.

“I am Cesare, the grandson of Ares and Aphrodite, blessed of both, charmspeaker, sword-wielder, and” he swept backward and into an ostentatious bow, with another brilliant smile, “at your service.”

Reyna bristled, but did not step back. “A Greek Caesar?”

“Ah, and I thought you were a Spaniard, but you know your italiano.”

Annabeth didn’t have to wonder how Reyna could recognize the Italian form of Caesar-- the Praetor was fluent in Latin, Spanish and English (and possibly Greek, she reasoned, since she and several of her siblings could speak Latin).

“What do you want here, then, Cesare? And why have you brought mortals to this camp?”

“First off,” he circled, his leather creaked, “I want nothing to do with the camp. I come only to meet my brethren-- well, my aunts and uncles, I suppose. You have to understand my curiosity, Praetor. I am, afterall, still half-Olympian. I might have belonged here, had the world been a little different.” There was no malice in his tone, but the inflection was difficult to place.

“Indeed,” she said tonelessly, “and what of the mortals?”

Now he sounded truly mirthful, “Oh, that wasn’t me, that was your own Percy Jackson. I’m only along for the ride.”

“Jackson let mortals in?” Annabeth hoped that someday she had a fourth of Reyna’s composure, because she was losing it in the tree. Her fingers twitched for her knife. Either this _Cesare_ was a flaming liar, or Percy had some very serious explaining to do. Annabeth had the sinking feeling, remembering his awkward and insubstantial excuse for not coming this weekend, that it was the latter.

_”I really have to stay.” He’d said plaintively, with one of her curls wrapped around his index finger. “I have to do that stupid group project for my psychology class-- it’s the only time we can all get together.”_

_She glared up at the ceiling of her chilly dorm room and idly entangled her left hand with his right one._

_“You’re meeting Saturday morning and the party isn’t until Saturday night. I don’t know why you don’t just come out after.”_

_She felt him wriggle next to her under the covers. She knew it better than anyone that, generally, she could get Percy to do anything for her. He was so easygoing that it was fairly normal for her to make their plans and for Percy to follow along amiably. Today, she could tell he was struggling._

_“You know I’m not doing so well in my other classes... and... stuff just always goes wrong. I can’t like, go back to camp and get spontaneously called on another quest and...”_

_“You know the Oracle has been silenced-- no one’s questing right now.” She interrupted._

_“Yeah, watch the Python attack or eat a bunch of Hypnos campers or something right as I get there.” He said miserably._

_She rolled over on top of him, carefully keeping the blankets around her shoulders, so that she could look into his face. His dark hair stuck up in every which direction, his lips were scrunched up in an expression of utmost discomfort. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the Python-- or any magical creature really, she knew, it was that he was tired. He was more tired than she thought he would be. But college had been harder on Percy than he’d anticipated, she knew that._

_A small part of her wondered if there was something else. They had never been one of those couples who could fully account for the others’ time... they were both far too independent. But Annabeth had started to wonder where her Seaweed Brain was, exactly, some evenings._

_She put her hand to his cheek and watched his eyes open and focus on her, “Will it help, if I go and you stay?” she asked quietly. She was afraid of her own subtext. That was a bizarre feeling._

_He diverted his eyes from her, they looked more and more like the troubled Mediterranean._

_“I think so,” he said quietly. He looked guilty, and sad. Then he tilted his chin up and brushed a ghost of a kiss across her hand. “I love you, more than anything. You have to know it’s not about us.”_

_She narrowed her eyes at him, and sat up. The blanket fell around her waist and goosebumps rose all over her arms and torso. She removed her hand and crossed her arms. “Promise?”_

_Annabeth knew he was likely the only man in the world who would never tremble at her glare. Percy only grinned cheekily, knowing he had won._

_“I already did, Wise Girl” he said, and wrestled her back down into the covers with the practiced ease of someone who frequently needed to distract their partner from a book or a complicated thought._

_“Well, good,” she murmured, letting go of her suspicions and doubts, “now warm me up, Seaweed Brain.”_

_His response was thoroughly nonverbal._

She felt a blush creep up from her chest at that memory attempted to refocus on Reyna and Cesare. 

“And it was Percy who told you we’d be throwing a contest, and told you who I am?”

“Well, told me to look out for you, was more like. But I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to meet you.”

Now Reyna was taken aback. “Me?” She asked in a higher voice than Annabeth had ever heard her use, then schooled her features, “I’m afraid if you’re looking for a letter of introduction or a space in New Rome...”

“Oh no, no, _la mia regina_ , I wanted to meet _you_. I’ve heard great tales of you,” he gesticulated gracefully and waxed on, “a beautiful and stoic leader, the ultimate, most humble and solitary martyr, the chosen daughter of Bellona, Friend of Horses.” If Reyna was impressed by her own resume, it did not show. He turned back to her and advanced closer, “As you know, I was named for a great leader, and I respect great leadership. And tonight,” his dark eyes twinkled in the odd, kaleidescopic darkness, “I think that leadership may be needed.”

“Why?” was Reyna’s simple response.

Finally, some semblance of seriousness overcame his features, “Because, Praetor, if not, I worry that people I care for will be hurt. Many of the mortals who came this evening are far-off legacies, great-great grandchildren, great nieces and nephews. Some of them will walk through your swords, but some of them,” he unsheathed a magnificent celestial bronze cutlass, and brought it dramatically to his neck, where he pressed ever-so-lightly. A ribbon of blood appeared quickly there. 

Even from her vantage point in the tree, she could feel the intensity mounting as the Pirate and the Praetor stared one another down. What the actual Hades was this about? Annabeth had to bite her lip to prevent herself calling out for him to stop. He was dangerously close to his cartoid. 

Finally, Reyna held up her hand for him to cease, and he froze obediently, “I think we understand one another. What do you suggest?”

“We find them.” he said, and resheathed his blade. He then removed a dark cloth and wiped the blood from his neck, casually, as though he hadn’t nearly slit his own throat in a strange display of... what? Submission? Loyalty?

The Praetor adjusted her cloak and very subtly glanced up into the tree. Annabeth got the message, though. _Follow when you can_.

“Shall we?” she asked, her white gloves a beacon as she gestured to the forest.

His face lifted in a sardonic half smile, and looked directly up to Annabeth.

“Of course, Praetor, but, we ought to let the Angel down from her perch before we commence, don’t you think?”

There was no wisdom in pretending to hide after you were found. Annabeth stood up on her branch and lept down from the tree, extending her wings to slow her ascent. She didn’t try to fly, but she did feel she made a somewhat impressive entrance.

She could see the Legacy Pirate Cesare clearly now, he was tall, handsome in a rakish sort of way, and somewhat swarthy for a teenager. He had an expressive face and a straight, Roman nose. When he smiled at her, she expected to dislike him, but what he said to her disarmed her on so many levels, she had trouble even processing it.

“You’re Annabeth!” he identified her with all the pride Annabeth might show in answering a trivia question correctly, “Percy told me you’re a great hero, the brightest of Athena’s children, and the absolute light of his life.” His smile widened mischievously, before he turned away and started off with the Praetor hot on his heels. “I’m surprised he didn’t mention the wings,” he called over his shoulder.

Percy Jackson had a _lot_ of explaining to do, she thought darkly, as she jogged to catch up with the unlikely pair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cesare is pronounced "Chezz-uh-ray" a la The Borgias, if you've seen it. But dear our Cesare is somewhat nicer :) What the heck is Percy up to now? Why didn't he tell Annabeth? What's going to happen to all of those untrained legacies when they meet up with monsters and full-on demi-Gods? 
> 
> Can Elly finish the story before Halloween?! It wouldn't be a RR tribute without some cliffhangers, right, amigos?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate all comments, hints, ideas, and criticisms. I WOULD seriously write a special story for anybody who made me some fan-art of our heroes in their Halloween costumes :) Reyna as Sailor Mars! Can you even? :)


End file.
